Harry's Trifle Allergy
by Cannon-Core
Summary: Set during the first book. McGonagall gets angry when Vernon Dursley tears up all of Harry's letters from Hogwarts so she takes the matter to Dumbledore. Just a short little snippet of what I think the conversation was like and why Hagrid was sent to personally retrieve Harry from the shack in the sea. Also... have you ever wondered what the teachers do over the summer? Read on...


**The Trifle Allergy**

It was a lazy, hot late afternoon on July the thirtieth and inside Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry you could find nearly every summer-occupant relaxing somewhere on the grounds. Peeves, the poltergeist hung precariously from a chandelier, sleeping, with no students to terrorize; the portraits all gathered in a particularly large beach painting to have a dip in the water, as there were no student to watch over; and Professors, Flitwick, Grubbly-Plank, Sprout and Trelawney were in the greenhouse drinking butterbeer laughing and enjoying themselves. Over the summer holidays the teachers, ghosts and seemingly-inanimate objects all enjoyed the warm days in their own way. Even the school's very own Argus Filch was taking advantage of the warm summer weather as he lounged with his cat Mrs. Norris in a chair next to the simply sparkling black lake.

Yes everyone was enjoying the heat of the day on grounds.

Almost everyone that is.

It was on this particularly sunny July afternoon that you could find the flabbergasted Professor McGonagall storming her way through the empty hallways of Hogwarts. The only other beings in the halls were none other than the school's elves who busied themselves with polishing the floors, walls and statues, enjoying the time away from the kitchen, a freedom they only pursued in the summer when the students were all away in their own homes.

Minerva McGonagall, who was simply fuming, stopped fast in front of a gargoyle and nearly spat the password that opened him, revealing the revolving staircase, "Sherbet Lemon."

The gargoyle guarding the office of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore did not jump aside as usual, instead it blinked its big stone eyes and looked to the frustrated teacher. "Professor Dumbledore is in a very important meeting at this moment, please return later."

"I don't give a damn if he's speaking with Merlin himself, move aside at once!" her echoing holler made two house elves behind her glance up in shock before scurrying off, their polishing rags in hand. The statue too starred in obvious surprise. It was rare for the ever-so-gathered teacher to swear; to a guard statue no less. He understood then that it must have been something of the utmost importance.

"Yes ma'am," it replied, jumping aside to allow the angry woman entrance. She walked up the stairs, even as they moved to the top on their own, and stormed angrily to the double oak door that concealed Dumbledore's office. And threw open the doors, disregarding the politeness of a simple knock.

"Albus you will not believe the audacity of those repulsive muggles!" She stopped short at the sight of the Minister of Magic, Cornelius Fudge sitting dutifully in front of Dumbledore's desk, obviously in mid-sentence.

"Minerva, how lovely of you to join our little powwow." Dumbledore said in greeting, seemingly unsurprised by her arrival.

"Powwow?" Fudge questioned obviously confused by the muggle word.

Minerva ignored the idiot man, "Albus the Dursleys, they-"

"Oh yes, they must be very upset to have to lose Harry for most of the year. They must be having a hard time accepting that he's going to be away from them for so long. It happens to many muggle born students as well Minerva, they'll come around. Don't fret."

McGonagall, who was never angry with her boss, gritted her teeth. "It's one thing not to let him come, but it's a totally different thing to not allow Harry Potter to know of his heritage, who and _what_ he is!"

"The Potter boy doesn't know he's a wizard?" Fudge looked to the old headmaster.

This time Dumbledore ignores the man, "Minerva I'm sure they will show him the letter. Have patience. Maybe it was lost in the post, you know how terribly slow the Muggle post is."

"I have sent hundreds of letters Albus, all clearly labeled to Harry. All made it to him, before being destroyed. Then they did the most horrendous thing Albus, they-"

"My dear Minerva, how terribly rude of me. Do you want some tea?" Dumbledore stood and when to a smaller desk behind him, offered an oddly smelling kettle with a smile which she took as a very Dumbledore-like look of warning. The teacher threw her hands up the air and sighed in exasperation. Sometimes this brilliant, genius man was enough to make her want to rip her own hair out.

"Now that's not the reaction I was expecting, it perfectly good tea, or does it smell too strange? I suppose it does, Fawkes' eggs often do change the smell, though I must say they don't taste too bad. Or I could offer you coffee, possibly butterbeer? I dare say the house elves are more than a little bored, it being summer holiday and all," he chuckles to himself, looking the Minister, "Why just this morning I woke to one of them cleaning the lint out from between my toes and another combing my beard!" this caused a great deal of laughter from Fudge and Dumbledore himself.

Minerva, knowing she would get nowhere with the shouting sat calmly next to the prime minister. "Most amusing," she said through clenched teeth, "but I am fine without a beverage Albus, thank you."

The man shrugged and smiled, that twinkle in his blue eyes more mischievous that usual, he sat back in his chair. "Suit yourself. Now what was so important that you would have felt so obliged as to barge past my guard even if I was speaking to Merlin, fabulous man that he was, himself?"

Minerva, stern as ever, sighed inwardly, "I've already told you Albus."

"Oh right! Yes young mister Harry Potter, of course." he looked pointedly at Cornelius with a smile. "Mr Potter is going to be attending our school this year. Isn't that exciting?"

Fudge nodded, his interest peaked, "Well yes, it should be a very big ordeal for all the students and teachers alike. The boy who wiped out you-know-who right here, in the school! Has he gone to Diagon Alley yet? I hadn't heard any news that the Potter vault had been opened."

"No he hasn't! This is what I am trying to say. Albus, the Dursley's had the nerve to destroy every letter I sent!"

"Well yes, you told us this Minerva. Must you repeat yourself or is there something else to say?"

"You don't understand do you?" she said, standing again. "How is Potter ever going to get to the school?"

"A few torn, burnt and lost letters won't stop him Minerva," he picked up his tea cup and sipped from its steaming brim.  
She glanced up at him; she had not mentioned what the ghastly excuse of a muggle had done to Harry's acceptance letters. So the old man was aware of what was happening to Harry after all.

"Yes but Albus, it's not only that. The Dursleys headmaster, they've run away."

This seemed to be the key to Dumbledore's full attention, and complete news to the man, for the twinkle in his eyes died slightly as he slowly set his tea cup down. "Leaving Harry at home you mean to say?"

"No sir, _with him_. That's the problem."

"Ah," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully.

Fudge looked between the two, more than a little confused. "I don't understand. Have neither of you ever heard of an owl post before? Much more efficient than the muggle's post I am sure. It'll get the letter to him whether he's out on holidays with his aunt and uncle or not."

McGonagall, when was forced to stop her eye roll, ignored him once again,"What am I to do Albus?"

"You've tried to send letters even though they are..." he glanced at Fudge, "…_holidaying_?"

"Yes, to everywhere they've stopped to eat or sleep, I managed to get letters to him, but he was able to open nothing sir."

"I see," he replied and turned to the picture on the wall behind him of a past headmaster who was sitting there listening intently as any wizard would when it was talk of the famous Harry Potter. "Dilys, Can you please go to Rubeus and ask him to come to my office at once?"

The old wizard half glared at the man for making him miss the conversation, which surely was the most action packed thing he had heard in years, if not centuries. "Of course," he replied gruffly before he walked away from his frame.

"Where is he now Minerva?"

"The owls have informed me that Vernon is renting a shack... in the ocean."

"I see...," he looked at her and sighed a little, "that's not all, is it Professor?"

She glanced at Fudge who, like the portraits, was watching closely to the conversation. "Vernon sir, he's bought..." she lowered her voice to a near silent whisper, "a rifle."

"A what?" one portrait said to another.

"I think she said bicycle," it replied.

"No, no, no she said _trifle_. The man bought a dessert for the boy. It's his birthday tomorrow you know."

"Well what's wrong with that then? Is he allergic to sweets?" The portrait sounded devastated at the thought.

"I suppose so, how unfortunate. So many deserts to miss out on," the first one replied with just as much distress. All the portraits, and Fudge for that matter, nodded in agreement showing their condolences to the allergy-ridden Harry Potter.

Minerva slapped a palm to her forehead, ready to snap at them all to shut their canvas faces at once, but she was interrupted before a sound could leave her mouth. "You're all deaf," the voice came from the top shelf of Dumbledore's book self. "She said rifle, _rifle_ you blundering idiots." the sorting hat said loud and clear, obvious annoyed with the commotion.

"Ooooh," they all (including Fudge) replied, nodding once more.

"What's a rifle?" Fudge voiced the obvious thoughts of a lot of the other paintings as well, having never heard the muggle word before. While others looked pale with fear for whomever the muggle had bought the "rifle" for.

Minerva and her oldest friend shared a look of worry, "A weapon of sorts, my friend." Dumbledore finally answered.

"You're worried about a muggle weapon?" Fudge snorted.

"Guns are very dangerous Minister."

"Even for wizards?" He crossed his arms in disbelief. "Come on Albus, be practical."

"Especially wizards," Albus replied in a serious tone. "It's hard to defend yourself when you aren't aware that the contraption being pointed at you was invented for no other reason that to kill."

Fudge blanched, dropping his arms and smug look. "Oh dear."

"Oh dear is right," Albus nodded.

"I did not realize how deeply Mr Potter's relatives cared about him. They're doing all this just to keep him in their home this year you say?" Fudge looked to Minerva.

She snorted and huffed, "Caring has nothing to do with it. I _assure _you."

"Minerva, please."

"Sir what if Harry never gets the letter-"

A hard knock on the door caused them all to look, "Come in Hagrid," he looked at the worried witch, "If the neither the postman or an owl can deliver the letters I will have it done the old fashion way. In person."

"Professor Dumbledore sir, you called? If this is about the skrewt incident, Professor Grubbly-Plank and I put the last of the fires out and-"

"Hagrid, no its nothing to do with that. No, I have a very important job for you. Off school grounds I'm afraid."

The man's eyes lit up, "Oh, well then, always happy to run errands. What can I do for you sir?"

"It seems that the Dursleys are reluctant to say goodbye to their nephew Hagrid."

The half giant's mouth up turned into a gapping smile, "Harry's aunt n' uncle sir?"

"Yes Hagrid, it is after all time that Mr Potter joined us here at Hogwarts."

"Already? Really? I didn't realize…"

"I know the years do pass by ever so swiftly."

"What do I need to do sir?"

"Well since you were the one to bring Mr Potter to the Dursleys and to introduce him to the muggle world in the first place, I think it only right that you be the one to take him to Diagon Alley and introduce him to _his _world."

The great man looked as though he was about to cry, "You want me to take him school shopping sir? For real?"

"Well I don't see why not."

"Thank you Professor thank you!" he turned to go, obviously more than a little excited to proceed in his mission. "I'm gunna head home first, bake him a cake for his birthday!"

"Hagrid, don't be so hasty. There's more."

"More?"

"Yes, firstly Harry is holidaying with his aunt as uncle, so you must go retrieve him from their… _summer home_," he wrote on a bit of parchment with a purple tipped quill. "And one more matter must be dealt with when you take Harry to his vault..." Dumbledore pulled a letter from his desk - which Cornelius Fudge eyed wearily - along with a small silver key.

He handed the three items to Hagrid, "The summer home, the Potter's vault key and.. well I must ask you to give that to the goblins at Gringotts, they will know what to do with it. It's a package Hagrid. Very important, _very _secret. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

"Good, now you may go- oh wait! One more thing... Mr Dursley it seems will go to great length to hold onto Harry... be careful."

Hagrid nodded, and tucked the three things inside various pockets on his coat, "He'll soon find I'll do just the same for Harry, Professor Dumbledore sir."

"Thank you Hagrid."

When the man was gone Minerva was able to breath out heavily thankful for the groundskeeper that she trusted completely. "Thank you Albus, I was worried that he wouldn't get the message. Could you imagine? Never knowing who you truly are?"

Dumbledore nodded, "I would have never allowed that to befall Lily and James' son Minerva, you know that," He stood from his desk swiftly.

Minerva nodded solemly, "I never doubted you Albus, just a little panicked is all," she too stood and followed Dumbledore as he headed to his office door. Cornelius, realizing he was about to be left alone in the office, scurried after them.

"We're all excited to have Mr Potter in our sight Minerva. Just don't forget that he is still only a boy, one who has no idea of the huge role that is to play in the wizarding world. You understand this correct?"

She titled her head slightly, "Sir? I don't believe so. Harry's part in the wizarding world has been complete. He defeated you-know-who and now he is famous, but what else is there?"

Dumbledore smiled, though she could tell it was not a genuine smile, "You'll be very surprised I am sure to see how his life is to progress Minerva," he turned to the stairs, not saying another word on the subject and the three of them rode to the floor and out to the corridor. Where the man turned to them, "Now, everything has been dealt with. Including our business Cornelius. So if you don't mind I'm going to find a willing house elf… I think there's still a bit of lint left between my fifth and sixth toes on my right foot…" his voice trailed off as he wandered down the hall away from the two.

Cornelius Fudge looked over to Minerva McGonagall, who stood with a smirk, "Has he always been this barking mad?"

She looked to him curiously, "Well of course he has."

With that she walked away from the man and his ridiculous bowler hat; deciding that she had one more acceptance letter to write to Harry, the one that Hagrid would deliver to the boy personally. As she finished the letter though she could not help but think back to the headmaster's words. What would the future hold for this boy? Would he be as important in the years to come as he had been in the past? She had to believe so if Dumbledore did. She'd be damned to go against the man's words, no matter how mad he sounded.

With that thought she went in search of her own house elves, feeling that her toes, too, could use a good lint-removal.

**A.N: Hey guys, I hoped you enjoyed this one shot! I was just rereading the series when BLAM this thought just would not go away. I hope everyone was in character and I hope you enjoyed it!**

**Please review! Even if it's just to tell me how much you hated it :)**


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